Mind Games
by TheShippyQueen
Summary: There's a new woman in Downton with a murky past. Who is she and what does she want? Chapter 3: Vera has evil on her mind!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I do not own any of the characters of Downton Abbey. Thank you to StuckInThePast for checking my mistakes, any that remain are purely my own fault and for that I apologise. I hope you enjoy this story, I confess I'm not totally sure how it will all turn out although I do have a basic idea! :D_

**Mind Games – Chapter 1**

The train rolls through the hills, steam billowing from the funnel in clouds of grey and black smoke as it makes its way at speed towards its final destination. On board the 11.33 train from London Kings Cross sits what one could only describe as a truly elegant woman, travelling alone (strange!) and carrying a rather elegant case.

She sits by the window in first class, clutching at her handbag with her hands clasped demurely in her lap. She wears a truly exquisite fur coat that fits perfectly around her slender elegant frame. Her hands are covered by the finest Spanish leather gloves and her silky black hair is crowned with a beautiful hat that oozes money and finery.

Her perfect flawless skin is enhanced by a dash of rose blush to her cheeks that suggests she is a woman of high fashion, a woman educated in the art of feminine decoration. Not many years ago, such attire would have suggested a woman of ill-repute, but not in these modern times. She removes an elegantly designed silver mirror from her bag and checks her reflection. She pulls out an ornate lipstick and applies a swift sweep of deep red colour across her full lips, admiring herself as she does. Oh yes, everything about this woman speaks of money, elegance, wealth and power.

The man sitting opposite her in the carriage keeps looking up from behind his newspaper to admire her. She is aware, and smiles to herself inwardly; he's attractive, in a devil-may-care way, but she has to restrain herself, no time for that today!

Opening her bag once more, she removes a neatly folded letter and opens it out, admiring the crest and beautiful sweeping handwriting. Reading it through for what seems like the hundredth time she smiles and carefully returns it into her bag. She turns her attention to the rolling countryside and settles into a reverie.

"_Eliza!" __Madame__ De Villiere calls, "Fetch me the emerald necklace with the matching earrings!"_

"_Of course Madame De Villiere" Eliza's voice echoes back through the dressing room. Entering the room, she smiles at the older woman sitting before her dressing table admiring her reflection. Approaching her, she carefully places the necklace around the lady's wrinkled neck. In her youth Mariah De Villiere had been stunningly beautiful, but age and drink have ravaged her once enchanting looks. Attaching the earrings, Mariah rises to her feet with a subtle wobble caused by a swift drink of whiskey. She faces her lady's maid, Eliza Davies, and smiles, showing brown teeth and thin lips dripping with too much red lipstick._

"_Thank you Eliza, I shall call for you later. Once Mr De Villiere has eaten and drunk his brandy he shall no doubt want his bed. I shall hopefully get an early night," Mariah says as she staggers towards the door._

"_Of course Mrs De Villiere." Eliza __replies, her voice____pure subservience. She gives a sly smile as the door closes behind her employer as she knows that Mrs De Villiere will not be the only one calling for her later that evening. For it has become habit within the De Villiere house for Eliza to serve not only the wife but also her husband, offering him regular relief before he falls into a drunken sleep._

_Turning back to the dressing table, Eliza eyes up the small pot of __rouge__ laid out on the table. She picks it up and pockets it, it's not stealing Eliza reasons, the woman has many of these pots and she won't miss one. Besides, servicing her husband every night on a __lady's maid's__ salary is hardly fair payment now is it?_

The memory changes suddenly….

_Mr De Villiere is above her, drunkenly heaving away, whiskey-riddled breath blowing across her face, but Eliza lies still and tries to look as though she is enjoying herself. This is far from enjoyment, this is torture, __but__ she'll make it worth her while in the end._

_A scream rings out through the house,_

"_Monsieur! Monsieur!" The maid's voice rings out along the corridor._

"_What the?" In a flash he is off her, pulling his gown around him _and_ rushing to the door. Eliza flees the bed and scurries towards his __dressing__ room to remain hidden._

"_Monsieur! Venez vite! C'est la maîtresse! It is Madame De Villiere!" The maid cries as she arrives in the doorway, "Elle est morte! She is dead!"_

_In the dressing room, Eliza smiles. Suddenly her fortunes have changed, the plan is coming together._

The train slows as it reaches the station, and the woman gathers her belongings together. In a billow of steam the carriage doors are opened and she steps down onto the platform. Downton station is nothing out of the ordinary, and she pays it little attention as she makes her way towards the exit. The letter explained that the chauffeur would be waiting and sure enough, parked outside the station is a fine-looking vehicle with a young man leaning casually against the bonnet.

She drops her bags to the floor and clicks her fingers at him to gain his attention.

"I say, excuse me!" She calls in a crisp, clear voice. "Are you Lady Grantham's chauffeur?"

The young man stands up quickly and his jaw drops open in disbelief, "I'm picking up a lady's maid for the Dowager Countess of Grantham to interview," he replies in a thick Irish accent.

The woman raises a thin and finely shaped eyebrow, "Yes I know, _I_ am the lady's maid in question!" she answers impatiently.

The man's eyes bulge and he glances up and down at her fine appearance. "You're….you're the lady's maid?"

She sighs in annoyance, "That is what I said! Are you deaf, boy?"

The chauffeur raises his eyebrows in offence and replies, "No need to be like that! If you don't mind me sayin' you look a little finely dressed for a lady's maid!"

She bristles slightly and smoothes out her perfect coat, "I've been trained in Paris, and the first thing a good lady's maid is taught is that one should always mimic the finery and elegance of the lady she serves."

The chauffeur looks bemused but offers no further comment, "Well hop in and I'll take yers up there!"

She coughs politely and glances at her bags before elegantly entering the car. The chauffeur sighs and picks up her bags and stows them less than elegantly on the back shelf. He gives a shake of his head as he gets into the driving seat and wonders what her Ladyshipwill make of this one.

She gazes out of the window as the car moves through the village towards the Dower House; it seems pretty and quaint, quite different from Paris, but then change is always good, keeps the soul active – or so they say.

Finally they arrive and the chauffeur calls out, "Here we are, the Dower House!" She waits for him to open the door and once again clicks to him and points to her bags. He doesn't hide the roll of his eyes and as he unloads them he speaks to her.

"If yers don't mind me sayin' yer've brought an awful lot of stuff for an interview!"

She smiles and smoothes out her coat, slightly adjusts the perfect hat and flashes him a dazzling smile, "Oh, I won't be leaving, I'm sure of that!"

The chauffeur raises his eyebrows at her confidence and lets out a low whistle. He scratches his head beneath his hat before holding out his hand. "Well I'm Branson, Lord Grantham's chauffeur. I live and work mainly up at the big house, Downton Abbey like but I occasionally take old Lady Grantham out. So what's yer name?"

She listens to his rambling with slight annoyance, she partly wants to say "Shhh!" to him but realises it might not be wise to annoy the staff right away. Instead she smiles sweetly, takes his hand and replies, "Jane, Jane Green."

"Well good luck Miss Green." Branson replies out of politeness.

"Oh, I don't need luck!" Jane smiles before turning and walking towards the door of the Dower House, where a man (probably the butler) is waiting.

Branson looks at the bags on the floor, sighs, and carries them behind her. He can't help but wonder that something is very wrong with all of this but then Jane Green seemed to have one of those personalities. You cannot deny her anything.

The Dowager Countess sits opposite Jane Green and eyes her with a mixture of suspicion and delight. Quite unlike the previous dowdy applicants, Jane Green is vibrant and elegant. When questioned about her attire, Jane Green demurely smiles and replies smoothly,

"Oh, when I was training in Paris I was taught that a lady's maid should always dress in a manner which represented the lady she serves. Just because she is a servant does not mean she should not make an effort with her own appearance. All the lady's maids in Paris are dressed like this. It costs a fortune, and takes a lot of saving, but it is worth it."

Lady Grantham considers this for a moment, eyeing up the young woman before saying, "Well…I suppose that does sound like a good idea. I often find myself cringing at the way some servants appear; they have no standards at all."

Jane Green nods in affected agreement, "Oh, I completely agree, young people today have no standards at all."

The Dowager Countess looks back down at the application form before peering back up at Jane, "So you've been working for the De Bonne family have you?"

**"**Yes that's right." Jane lies beautifully, but what does it matter? She has references and this doddery old lady is hardly likely to check up on her now is she?

"And you left because?" Lady Grantham peers at her over thin wire glasses.

_It is a dark Parisian night and the car races through the wet streets. She sits on the back seat, dressed in fine clothes and dripping with jewels. Arnaud De Villiere is at her side, his big, fat hand sliding up and down her thigh as he leers drunkenly at her. Just another night as his mistress, this has been the norm since Mariah's suspicious death. A footman was blamed and hanged for her death; it seemed he had poisoned her with an overdose of chloral. He had been found with the bottle on his person but people did question where had a young footman got hold of chloral and why did he want her dead? He gained nothing and lost his life for it. Very strange, they mused, but he was found with it, so clearly guilty! She had even given evidence against the boy; she'd seen him holding a suspicious bottle on the night in question, or so she said, but then when your own safety is in jeopardy you'd say anything…_

Jane pauses briefly, allowing the memory to disperse before replying smoothly, "Well m'lady, it seemed to me that France was quickly becoming a dangerous place to live, especially for an English woman like myself. We were worrying that a war was on the way, so I thought I should leave, return to my homeland as soon as possible. It seemed the most sensible thing to do."

Lady Grantham nods in agreement, "Quite right, a woman should not be alone in such a place, amongst foreigners! No, you made a very sensible decision my dear. Best to remain where it is safe, and there is nowhere safer than England."

"My thoughts exactly!" Jane purrs, "So when I saw your advertisement I applied. I hope you got my references?"

Once again the Dowager Countess studies the application and the two references she had been sent, both full of high praise for this fashionable lady's maid. "Yes, Lady De Bonne and Lady Carter sent exemplary references."

Jane smiles demurely and offers a silent thanks to Mme Elodie, the local whorehouse owner in a suburb of Paris, who could write fluently in English _and_ change her handwriting enough to produce some excellent but completely made up references.

"I learnt all I know from those fine ladies, I was trained to the highest standard and know all the latest fashions. I still have friends within Paris who have promised to send me all the latest advancements….should I be fortunate as to get this post." Jane explains, smiling at her use of 'friends', thieving whores more like! And 'fine ladies?' She learnt everything and more from Mme Elodie!

The Dowager Countess looks suitably impressed. "Well you'll live here with me of course, I do occasionally spend the night at my son's home**, **Downtonbut very rarely, I prefer to return here on a night. I expect you to come whenever I call and I expect you to be prompt and polite. I run a tight house here Miss Green and you'll be expected to slip in without any problems."

"You can rely upon me m'lady! I am the model employee and incredibly discreet." Jane responds, excitement building.

"Hmmm. Well discreet with things regarding me, yes. Anything else you may hear with regards to anyone else, then please no need for discretion with me!" Lady Grantham muses with a sly smile.

Jane returns the smile, "But of course m'lady!"

Lady Grantham rises and Jane follows, "Well, welcome to your new home! I'm exceedingly pleased to have you as my lady's maid!"

"The honour is all mine!" Jane bobs a curtsey and fizzes inside with delight. Once again she has succeeded and this house, well this seems like the perfect place. The son is perhaps a slight annoyance, but hopefully he'll be too busy Lording it to worry about his mother. No, Jane believes that this is perfection!

Later that night, she stands in her little bedroom and admires the space that is now hers. Smaller than what she has been used to in Paris (especially when she was living in Lady De Villiere's bedroom for all those months!) this is still better than anything else she has had in life. She admires the many bottles lining her small dressing table. She sighs happily at the sight of all the dresses hanging perfectly in the small wardrobe and slowly walks towards the mirror on the chest of drawers. As she admires her reflection, another memory floods back.

"_S'arrêter cette femme! Stop that woman!"_

_She races along the street, the bags cutting her hands, her feet screaming in the heels but she won't stop, not until she is safe._

"V_oleur! Voleur! THIEF!"_

_The voices are getting closer but still she runs, hair tumbling down and breath coming hard. She rounds the corner and races down the narrow cobbled street, adrenaline pumping as she nears her destination. Banging on the door it eventually opens and she tumbles inside._

"_Jesus! You took your bloody time!" she pants._

"_Mon Cherie! Where's the fun if it isn't close? Welcome back you filthy slut!" The woman in front of her laughs as she drops the bags and kicks off her shoes._

"_Less of the filthy Elodie!" She laughs as relief floods every vein._

"_So then, what's next?" Mme Elodie asks, lighting a cigarette._

"_I'll wait here a bit and then as soon as I can, I'll get passage to England." She replies._

_Mme Elodie shakes her head, "Always on the run!"_

_She grins, "Isn't that the best way?"_

_Mme Elodie laughs, "Of course!"_

The memory ends and Jane looks once more at her image in the mirror. Surrounded by all these fine things, beautiful and ornate things, one could almost believe her to be a lady of aristocracy. But Jane Green is anything but that. Jane Green isn't even her name. In the past she has had many names, Eliza Davies, Jane Green, Mary Mitchell and Hannah King to name a few. Not one of those names is really hers; in fact nothing about her is real. She owns nothing; it's all stolen, taken from rich women and their drunken husbands. Lady of the night, whore, slut, thief, devil…call her any of these for they're all true but the name which rings out the most truth about this woman is simple.

Vera Bates.

Tonight, though, she is unknowingly sleeping within the same village as her husband.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thank you for the reviews they were lovely and I am glad you enjoyed chapter 1! Here's chapter 2 and once again a big thank you to StuckInThePast for her assistance! I promise not to be too long with the next chapter though I am yet to write it! :D x_

Chapter 2:

Jane (yes we shall call her that for now!) is standing behind the Dowager Countess, styling her hair into a new and more modern chignon style. The two women get along quite nicely and despite it being unconventional, Lady Grantham refers to her as "Jane" and not "Green" as would be normal for a lady's maid.

"Oh no Jane, not the pearl earrings, they were a present from my mother-in-law, a truly vile woman, no I think I'll wear the gold drops today." Lady Grantham stops Jane's hand before she can attach the earrings.

"As you wish m'lady." Jane answers; she turns back to the jewellery case and removes the earrings her Ladyship has requested.

"Thank you my dear!" Lady Grantham says as she finishes off her appearance. A knock on the door causes her to turn and look at the young maid in the doorway. She bobs a curtsey and says,

"If you please m'lady, Lady Grantham has arrived and is waiting in the drawing room."

"Thank you Emma." The Dowager Countess rises and speaks kindly to Jane, "I don't think I shall need you now for a while Jane."

Jane merely bows her head in response and waits for the bedroom door to close. Silently, she turns and moves towards the dressing table picking up the pretty pearl earrings. She studies them, they're clearly expensive and very finely made, and they would fetch a large amount of money. Jane smiles as she pockets them and leaves the bedroom in satisfaction.

Within the drawing room Violet is explaining to her daughter-in-law all about her excellent find. Cora listens intently, quietly pleased that they had found a maid willing to put up with Violet's manners. She has rarely heard her husband's mother speak so warmly of a servant.

"Oh my dear, she is quite a find. Very skilled and up to date on all the fashions. Perhaps she should talk to O'Brien? Give her some new ideas?"

Cora chuckles lightly, "As much as that sounds like a good idea, I'm not sure O'Brien would take too kindly to that!"

Violet bristles with annoyance, "Well….no I must say Jane is quite wonderful and so finely dressed. She raises the standard of the house just with her presence!"

"Do you not think she's a little…..too finely attired for a servant?" Cora questions, she's seen this wonderful Jane and though she seems entirely competent there's just something about her that Cora finds strange.

"Not at all!" Violet cries indignantly, "She just represents the standard of the house she works in."

Cora raises an eyebrow but knows better than to speak further on the matter. No matter what her thoughts are, Violet's are always right!

"Now my dear, tell me, has Mary heard from Matthew yet?" Violet moves the conversation along to more pressing matters.

Upstairs, Jane is standing by the window of Lady Grantham's bedroom gazing absently out at the gardens below. Her fingers link through her tiny gold locket that hangs around her neck. Of all the things that Jane has, this tiny item is the only thing that truly belongs to her. Given to her by her mother shortly before she died, it is a treasured item.

Standing alone, the memories return, taking Jane by surprise as recollections from the past haunt her present.

"_So you'll be sharing with the girls, you're expected to work every night and you don't turn any client away. All business is good business in this house!" Elodie's voice is heavily accented but her English is good. She takes a long drag on a cigarette and eyes up the new English woman, "So, what's your story then?"_

_She shrugs her thin shoulders beneath a rain soaked dress. It is the only item of clothing she owns and her shoes have long since worn out. "The usual; bad husband, drink and opium."_

_Elodie nods in understanding and eyes up the woman's poor appearance. "Je crois comprendre, I understand. It is the same for all the women here. Now, we need to clean you up, no man will touch you in that state. Genevieve, Francoise! Take her upstairs and sort her out, make her look at least a little presentable!"_

_The house is filled with young women in various states of undress; men come and go from the house and day and night noises of pleasure echo through the rank corridors and paper thin walls. It is a place worse than hell but this is now home and work._

_She sees men daily and at all hours, leading them one after the other into her room to do the things their wives refuse to do. She is paid well and her fine looks make her popular with the customers. Elodie's is always known for quality and value for money. So the men keep coming and she keeps working._

Her first days at the Dower house turn into weeks and Jane has settled well within her new role. As well as being a ladies maid, Jane has also started to run small errands into the village for the Dowager Countess. She trusts her dear Jane to do all her bidding and to return with all the fresh gossip for her to devour. Jane never disappoints.

On one such afternoon Jane finds herself leaving the post office when she glances up and sees a figure that makes her heart stop dead. Across the road she sees the man she has spent the last ten years trying to avoid, the man that she once loved and the man she now hates with all her heart.

Her husband.

He is alone and walking with the aid of a stick, he wears a long black coat and black hat placed over his now thinning hair. He appears older than she remembers him but then it has been a decade. However there is still no mistaking who he is.

As her heart restarts and pummels against her chest she has to fight the urge to run but there is a part of Jane that never shies from a fight and so pulling herself up to her full height calls out to him.

"Hello husband dearest."

Across the street she seeshim stiffen at the sound of her voice. She watches him turn towards her, sees his face harden as for the first time in ten years he lays his eyes upon her**.** His expression changes from shock to anger and quickly to horror. Jane cannot stop the wicked smile spreading across her face as John Bates, the man she has been married to for twenty years, moves as fast as he can across the street, checking all the time that nobody has seen or is watching.

He roughly grabs her arm and half drags, half pushes her into a small passageway, she gives a harsh laugh at his treatment of her and mocks him,

"Is this a way to treat your wife?"

"You're no wife of mine!" he spits, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh John!" She purrs at him, her hand reaching out to stroke his chest which he quickly slaps away. She bristles at his touch, "I know you've missed me! You always missed me!"

His face is thunderous, "No, I have not missed you and your poisonous lies. Why are you here?"

She straightens herself up smugly and replies "Haven't you heard? I'm the new lady's maid to old Lady Grantham!"

She takes great pleasure in seeing her husband visibly pale at her words, "No….."

"Oh yes and I'm highly favoured!" She smiles sweetly; her face turns suddenly serious, "More importantly, why are you here?"

"I work here, for Lord Grantham!" he snaps, clearly ruffled.

Her laugh shatters the air around them and he grabs her wrist, harshly demanding her silence. As her laugh dies she yanks her hand away and smirks, "Well, well what a pickle this is! I bet the good Lord Grantham doesn't know what sort of man he has living in his house!"

John does not speak, he merely glares at her; a muscle in his cheek twitches with anger and the vein in his neck is extended through stress. Her amusement grows and she taunts him further, knowing his temper will quickly rear its once familiar head.

"Fancy the Earl of Grantham employing a thief, a liar, an alcoholic, a cheat, a philanderer…." She pauses and leans in closer breathing in his once familiar scent, "A cripple." She laughs shrilly in his face, "Oh John how many lies did you have to tell to get this employment?"

Still he does not speak, it is clearly taking him every ounce of self control he possesses to remain silent and not hit her across the face. She can see him beginning to crack, she's seen the signs so many times and she knows just how to push him until he snaps.

"Come on, does he know what a vile, evil….cowardly excuse of a man he has working for him? Does he know….." She leans into him and whispers in his ear, "the truth?"

It's a step too far and his hand snaps up to strike her but just at the last minute he catches himself and leaps away from her, his breath coming hard and his hands visibly shaking. She is elated and laughs heartily,

"I see some things never change John, still the same old you!"

He opens his mouth to speak when a voice calls out from the little market square.

"Mr Bates?"

"Anna!" The soft word escapes his mouth before he has chance to think. He turns and her eyes follow him. Standing in the square is a young woman. She is looking about, her hand shading her eyes and she is clearly looking for someone.

Realisation dawns upon Jane as she takes in her husband's expression, the way he looks at this young woman, the way he is clearly worried she will find out the truth. Despite a sharp pain of jealousy she turns her face into a smirk, "Oh….I see! Oh yes John, very pretty! And so young, just how you always liked them!"

He turns back angrily and points a finger sharply in her face, "You stay away from her!"

"Very protective of her! Well, she looks pretty; you've had many an uglier looking girl!" Her voice is liquid poison, "Poor thing though, it seems so sad she doesn't know what you really are!"

"Stay away from me and stay away from her, do you hear? I'm warning you Vera, don't push me!" His voice is low and dark. Turning slowly he limps back out into the sunshine, towards the young woman. She watches him walk away from her, walk towards the blonde haired woman who smiles warmly at his approach. The woman who has clearly captured John Bates' heart.

"There you are! I was getting worried; I thought you'd gone on without me!" The young woman's voice is light and happy. Carefree.

"I wouldn't do that!" he replies as she links her arm through his,

"Are you alright?" She sounds worried as she takes in his ruffled appearance.

"Fine," he replies a little too sharply, his voice softens as he asks "Did you get everything?"

"Yes…." Her voice fades as they walk away from Jane. Still in the shadows she straightens out her coat and hat before stepping out into the sunshine and carrying on her way. Despite her outward appearance her heart is hammering and there's a terrible feeling of dread swirling in the pit of her stomach. This changes everything, it's an added complication but then Jane is used to such things and suddenly dread turns to excitement. This just makes the game all that more daring and all that more risky and what is life if it isn't risky?

She barely sees the road as she walks, barely feels her feet taking each step, her mind is lost to another memory, a memory stirred up by seeing her husband once more.

_The air in The Mermaid is thick with tobacco and it is full to the rafters with men and fallen women. This is an inn any respectable human would avoid like the plague but to Vera, it is more familiar than home. Making her way through the rowdy crowd of drunken men she laughs raucously as groping hands find her, she doesn't mind their vulgar comments, for she lives for such moments. _

_Taking another long drink from a jug of ale she staggers towards the far corner of the room, to where she knows he'll be waiting. As the crowd parts lightly she sees him sitting with a group of men and surrounded by some local women. As usual he is drinking heavily and gambling hard, it's a normal part of their lives in this area. Seeing the young girl she knows to be called Beth drape her arms around his neck and seeing the way he encourages her, Vera sees red._

_In a flash she has the young girl by her flame red hair and drags her to the floor as the other women shout abuse and the men jeer at the sight. Raining harsh blows to the girls head, Vera's language is blue and the girl scurries away from this violent woman clutching at her head. Vera straightens up and turns to face her husband, he smiles warmly, his eyes dancing with amusement. She stalks towards him and slaps him hard across the face, her hand stinging with the force. She doesn't show the pain and neither does he. Suddenly his hand snaps up and grabs her wrist, yanking her towards him and grabbing her black, messy hair with the other hand pulls her onto him, forcing his mouth hard upon hers._

"_Was that really necessary?" He asks roughly, nodding his head towards Beth who is clutching her bleeding head._

_Vera slaps him again, the sound resonating even in the noisy room, she grabs his chin with one hand and snarls, "What've I told yer John Bates? Do what yer like wi' 'em just not in front of ma face!"_

_He grins, "It won't happen again!"_

_Her face breaks into a grin, "Too bloody right it won't!"_

_He picks up his ale and downs it in one and the night continues…._

Somehow, Jane has arrived back at the Dower house, though she doesn't recall the walk. She finds herself in her bedroom, pacing back and forth, her nerves shredded. She reaches for a small vial hidden within her jewellery case and breaks the cap and swallows it all, instantly feeling better. As she begins to pack away the case she sees the pearl earrings she stole from Lady Grantham and lifts them up, considering, thinking….planning.

Suddenly to Vera, it seems too obvious to steal them, too easy especially now there is even more fun to be had; now she has a new toy to play with. With a sly smile, she leaves the room carrying the earrings intent on replacing them within her Ladyship's jewellery case. Why steal when you can have more fun tormenting your waster of a husband?

As she moved Vera decided, she was going to ruin John Bates' life.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: As always I don't own any of the characters! Thank you for the lovely reviews, I hope this lives up to your expectations!_

Chapter 3:

It is a lovely day and Vera is enjoying a walk into the village. Violet has given her some free time whilst she entertains at the Dower House and Vera is grateful for the time away. Seeing John for the first time in ten years has shaken her to the core, and she constantly finds herself thinking about him and how this nowchanges everything.

She realises with a small amount of horror that she still loves him, despite their rocky past, but at the same time she hates him with such burning passion that in the right moment she could kill him outright. And she does dream this, every night she plots and plans her ultimate revenge upon him. She dreams of killing him in a variety methods and seeing his dead body laid out before her, finally free from him and the past.

But for Vera this would be too easy – she could do it so simply – where's the fun in that? It takes a lot of self control to convince herself that suffering in life is easier than suffering in death.

One thought however keeps returning. It is an image of the blonde woman he was with on that day. Anna. That's what he'd called her. _Anna_….her name had escaped his lips in a way that was so familiar to her, for it was the way he used to say her name; long ago of course! The way he'd been so determined to protect this little slip of a thing, it spoke volumes. Vera couldn't stop the jealous monster rear its head every time she conjured the image of _Anna_. Slim, young, fair haired and spritely, she was the very image of beauty, it was no wonder she had captured John – vile, weak man that he was.

Vera had to admit she was the opposite of the type he usually went for, he'd always preferred them wild, dark haired, dark eyed and of loose morals. The one thing that had not changed was his preference of age, he'd always liked them younger than himself and this _Anna_ was certainly that! Vera wondered what she saw in her crippled husband, what had he done to the girl to attract her smiles? Clearly he had deceived the innocent thing.

These thoughts plague her for many hours and today as she walks aimlessly into the village it is no different. As she rounded the corner into the market place she walks straight into the object of her reflections._ Anna_.

"Oh…I'm sorry!" The young woman apologises with a polite smile.

For a moment Vera cannot speak. She merely stares at the girl, memorising her appearance. Up close she really is young, a good twenty years younger than herself and with pretty eyes that sparkle. Her face is sweet and her complexion clear and despite being a lot shorter than Vera her figure is pleasing. 'Like a doll,' Vera thinks, 'A little china doll.'

And how easily china can be broken!

"Are you alright?" Anna's voice shakes Vera from her thoughts and realises she must speak. She adopts her most dazzling smile and touches Anna's arm,

"Oh yes, I am so sorry! I'm in a right dream today!"

Anna's face quickly flashes from a concerned gaze to a relaxed smile, "Oh don't worry, I wasn't really looking either!"

Anna moves to step away from Vera and she realises with a panic that this could be her only chance to get close to her.

"Erm…do I know you?" she asks a little too desperately.

Anna tilts her head and replies, "No…I don't think so. Are you new here?"

Vera smiles inwardly, that was the question she'd hoped for! Now she would get her attention!

"Yes, I'm the new Lady's maid to Lady Grantham. I've not been here long." Vera's voice is smooth and sweet. Despite her surprise she quickly slips into her old ways and becomes Jane Green once more.

_Anna,_ sweet little _Anna_, smiles easily at her and removes a glove from her left hand and holds it out to Vera. "Well, we have something in common…." She begins

'Indeed we do!' Vera cannot help but think.

"….I work for Lord Grantham at Downton Abbey. I'm the head housemaid." Anna's explanation of her role sends Vera's stomach churning. So she's quite high up then, not just any old maid, she's head housemaid. Pleased with this new bit of information, Vera takes her soft hand and shakes it lightly.

"Well I'm pleased to meet you…" Vera's voice trails away allowing Anna to insert her name at that point,

"Anna, Anna Smith."

"Anna Smith." The name sticks to her lips as she speaks it but smoothly covers over by announcing her own-if albeit fake – name. "I'm Jane Green."

Anna's sunny smile lights up her face as she breezes into her next question to Jane, "So how are you settling in? Is old Violet making your life hell yet?"

Jane smiles and shakes her head with a light laugh, "Oh no, we get on well. I'm enjoying it."

Anna raises an eyebrow, a smile still playing about her lips, "Well good for you! She's scared many a maid away in the past! Anyway it's been nice to meet you, I'm sure we'll see each other around…"

'_Damn! She's leaving!'_ Vera panics, she wants to keep Anna talking as long as possible, she wants to befriend her, earn her trust and this could be her only chance.

"Wait!" Vera's voice sounds desperate and she knows it, Anna looks a little taken aback by her outburst and so she tries to soften her next words with a smile, "I don't suppose you want to come and take some tea with me?"

Anna opens her mouth to protest or give some excuse and so Vera hurries on quickly, "Only I am new and apart from the other staff at the Dower House, I don't know anyone. It would be nice to have someone different to talk to…" she pauses and adopts her best doe-eyed impression, "Unless of course you're too busy?"

Anna's excuse falters and dies on her lips, "Well….yes alright then. Tea would be nice."

Vera releases an inward sigh of relief. She makes a quick decision to take her back to the Dower House, as Lady Grantham is entertaining and she has some free time it doesn't seem to be such a problem for her to take Anna back there.

They walk along with Anna talking politely and making conversation about the village and some of the people that live in it. Vera walks, her mind engaged in negative pursuits. She cannot shake the thought of this young woman with her husband, she imagines him kissing her, touching her, loving her – it makes her blood boil with resentment and jealousy. How dare he try to find happiness after what he did?

Before she knows it they are inside the kitchens of the Dower House and Vera makes some tea whilst Anna sits primly at the table. Sitting opposite each other nursing cups of tea, Vera starts the conversation by questioning how long Anna has been in service and at Downton. She answers the questions with ease and seems happy to share her experiences with this new found friend.

They talk for what seems like ages and quickly feel comfortable with each other. Well, Jane feels comfortable with Anna but Vera is finding it hard to keep a civil tongue within her head. _Anna_, is annoyingly lovely, infuriating and sincere, Vera finds her dislike for her grows. From the way she drops her eyes when she talks about herself, to the little smile that seems to always be so ready to appear, it's all so perfect…so damn perfect. She hates her.

The malicious streak kicks in and smiling sweetly Jane asks, "So have you got yourself a beau then?"

Anna's cheeks flush a (perfect) shade of pink and she drops her eyes demurely, "Oh no…."

Vera is elated, Jane engrossed, "Oh come now, a pretty girl like yourself! You must be fighting them off!"

Anna laughs and shakes her head, "Hardly!"

"So there isn't a special man in your life then?" Jane's voice is as smooth as silk, she's pushing it now and she knows it. Anna might not be as stupid as she looks, and the last thing she needs is her getting suspicious. Something tells her that Anna might be the sort of person to not let things go if she gets a hint of a lie.

Anna, it seems, has sensed nothing, instead her blush has deepened and a smile is playing about her lips.

"So there is someone!" Jane is triumphant, "I knew it! So…come on then tell me all about him. Is it serious?"

Anna doesn't speak for a moment and Jane fears she has gone too far but then the younger woman speaks,

"There is someone but it's complicated."

"Oh?" Jane responds as Vera's heart hammers into her chest.

Anna pauses again, clearly trying to decide whether to explain further, Vera prays that she will.

"He's….well….like I say, it's just a bit complicated." Anna's explanation ends there and disappoints Vera.

The way Anna's face has changed tells Jane that she will get no more from her on this subject today and so with some resentment and a heap of disappointment she replies, "Well….complicated or not I hope he's worthy of you. Some men are not worth the air they breathe."

"Oh, no, he's worth it!" Anna protests before quickly deflecting anymore questions, "What about you Jane? Is there no special someone for you?"

The Mermaid _is crowded as is usual for a Friday night and Vera is working behind the bar, as she has done for the last few years. It is a way to pay the bills and feed her drink habit, the crowd are undesirable but she has ways of dealing with them and her name has respect in this area. Nobody would dream of vexing Vera Wilde, with her vicious tongue and sharp hand she is a force to be reckoned with. The landlord never questions her aggression, her beauty blinds him and he would do anything for her and in the past he has. There are many things he has protected her from already and would continue to do so as long as she works for him._

_Usually Vera would not look twice at any of the men who frequent this bar; they were known thieves, murderers, rapists and adulterers. Diseases were rife and death far too frequent. However on this particular night one man takes her eye. He's been here before but not often. Dark haired, tall and stocky with black eyes that sparkle with mischief he's the very image of handsome. He drinks heavily and gambles hard but he has a rather seductive voice with a small Irish hint to it that she finds irresistible. Addictive__**.**_

_Almost at once her sees her and beckons her over, his eyes are dark with desire and like a moth to a flame she's drawn in. She sits in his lap, drapes her arms around his neck and is lost to him in a deep and passionate kiss. As the kiss ends, she slips coyly off his lap and disappears towards the back of the bar. Keep him guessing, keep him wanting- always the motto._

The memory changes slightly…

_The alley is dark as Vera heads along on her way home from The Mermaid. She hears footsteps behind her and turns to see a group of men __**following**__ at a distance. This is not unusual, it's a rough area of London and groups of men are common. Vera picks up her pace a little though just to be safe. The group pick up speed. Vera speeds up again, the end of the alley is in sight. The group are getting closer. Vera begins to run a little, they run. They are behind her; heavy hands reach out and grab at her pulling her backwards. She tries to call out but a hand clamps down over her mouth preventing any noise._

_What happens next goes so quickly that the memory is blurred. Hands. Skirt. Wall. Rough. Laughter. Pain. Laughter. Pain. Laughter….then…_

"_Hey! What the hell are ya doing?" The voice is strangely familiar._

_The laughter stops. The floor begins._

_Again the memory blurs but there is shouting, noises, swearing, running and then…._

"_Are you alright?" The male voice is close and kind; he's kneeling at her side and lays his jacket around her shoulders._

_She sits up and looks at her saviour, "Yes, yes I think I'm alright. Thank you."_

_Her vision clears and she recognises the face, it's the man from the bar. The man she had shamelessly draped herself over earlier that night. She would have blushed but considering the state he has now seen her in, there's hardly much to be embarrassed about. He holds out his hands and helps her to her feet._

"_Come on, you look like you need a drink." His voice is gentle, the soft lilt still coming through. He leads her along the alley to a small doorway and opens it. Stepping inside she sees it is a small lodging room, she turns to him._

"_Is this where you live?"_

_He smiles kindly and says, "Yes, I heard the noise outside and saw…..well, anyway…." He moves to a cupboard and pulls out an old glass and begins to pour some varieties of liquids into it. He holds it out to her, "Here, drink this. It will calm your nerves."_

_Vera takes it suspiciously and smells the dark mixture, "What is it?"_

_He laughs, "Don't worry, it's nothing sinister. It's brandy, whiskey and gin. A heady mix but one drink of that and any memories from tonight will be long gone!"_

_Vera smells and cautiously sips the liquid. Burning hot alcohol spreads down her throat and into her stomach, warming, relaxing. She manages to smile at him. "Potent!"_

_He laughs again, "Yes, my father swore by it as the best pain medicine!" He takes a long swig out of a bottle and studies her carefully. "What's your name?"_

"_Vera, Vera Wilde." She answers, studying him once again and can't help but think how good looking he is._

"_Well….Vera Wilde." His voice is silky and smooth, his eyes dance with merriment and alcohol, "Tonight must be your lucky night!"_

_Then in the blink of an eye she is in his arms, he is kissing her neck and she is groaning beneath his hot touch. They are on his bed, clothing strewn about the room as they writhe in smouldering passion. Beneath his mouth she manages to ask, "What's your name?"_

_He stops for a moment, gazing into her eyes and replies in a voice thick with desire, "John Bates."_

_And she is lost. She is his._

The memory ends and Vera realises she has not spoken or answered Anna's question. The younger woman is peering at her curiously over her tea cup. Adopting her best smile, Jane replies,

"There was someone, a long time ago….but….well he died and there's been nobody since."

_Anna_, dear sweet little _Anna_, puts down her cup, her eyes widening in misplaced sympathy. "Oh Jane! How terrible for you!"

Jane waves her hand dismissively, "Well it was a long time ago, and….well, never mind.**"**

Anna looks as though she is about to say something else when the housekeeper enters and sees Anna sitting at her table. She gives Jane a pointed look and Anna quickly gets the hint, rising to her feet and picking up her summer jacket.

"Well I must go, but it was lovely talking to you, Jane."

Jane smiles warmly though Vera cannot help but grimace at the sickly voice and that blasted smile of _Anna._

_She sees his hands running all over her back, his lips against her hair. Anna._

"See you soon Anna, it was nice to meet you." Jane calls after her.

_She sees her arms around his neck, his body pressing against her pulling her in, intoxicating her. Anna._

The bell rings for Jane and she sets off towards the staircase, the events of the afternoon running through her mind.

_She sees them together, their bodies entwined, her cries, his groans. Anna._

As she reaches her Ladyship, Vera is in a distressed state, her hands shake and she is breathing heavily. She has to stop outside the door and lean against the frame, steadying her breathing and calming her nerves. Finally, when she feels more in control, she knocks and enters the bedroom.

Her Ladyship is sitting at the little vanity table**,** applying lavender scented cream to her hands. She greets Jane with a smile and quickly relates the details of her afternoon with Lady Metcalfe. Jane listens politely and makes noise in all the correct places but she isn't listening. Her mind is engaged in the past, on him.

"Jane! Did you hear me?"

The voice cuts through her memories, bringing her to the present once more but it is Vera who answers,

"Jane? Don't you mean V…" Her voice trails off as she realises her mistake. She sees Lady Grantham look up at her in the mirror. Her heart hammers into her chest, perspiration begins to form. She is panicking.

"What?" Lady Grantham asks, her face contorted into a light frown, "Jane, what on earth is the matter?"

"Erm, nothing your ladyship! I mean….Oh…" Vera is panicking, "I don't know what I mean!"

"Are you alright?" Lady Grantham turns to look at her in the face, "You look very unwell."

"I don't feel very well, M'lady." Jane responds. She realises that to get out of this she will have to feign sickness, "I've just come over all lightheaded!" She sways to give added effect.

"Oh my dear!" Lady Grantham's voice is concerned, "Sit down; you've worked yourself too hard I'm sure!"

"Oh no, I'm sure I shall be just fine. It's passing now, if I just take these clothes down to be washed, I'm sure I will be fine," Jane responds as Lady Grantham gets up.

"Well, if you are sure? I am dining at Downton tonight and won't be back until around ten, so take some time and put your feet up." Lady Grantham pats her kindly on the arm.

"You are too kind m'lady." Jane replies demurely, and gathers together her ladyship's clothing to be washed.

She leaves the bedroom quietly, and hears her ladyship following behind. She is looking through her little bag and not paying much attention. As Jane walks slightly in front towards the servant's staircase her eyes are drawn to the main staircase of the house. The maids have been cleaning and sweeping and a small part of the rug is sticking up. Somebody could trip on that.

In an instant the decision is made and glancing slyly behind her she notices Lady Grantham is still not watching where she is going. With a flick of her foot, Jane makes the rug worse; a small elderly foot could easily get caught. Jane moves away quickly, continuing upon her way. She hears Lady Grantham approach the staircase and counts.

1…..2…3….4…..A cry, a thud, a gasp and then just thud, thud, thud and a sickening silence.

She stops and smiles, this is coming together nicely now. Ever the actress, she turns and drops the clothes, cries out "My Lady!" and runs to the top of the stairs. Lying at the bottom of the elegantly carpeted stairs is her ladyship in a less than ladylike position.

The memory floods back as Jane runs down the stairs.

_The bottle of gin lies empty by the bed; they lie together in a tangle of sheets and limbs. Strong hands gently stroking and caressing. He won't be home for ages, out somewhere drinking and gambling. Warm touch, hot kisses. And so what if he does come back? He deserves this._

_The latch on the door goes, heart pounding she leaps out of his arms. There is noise, shouting, footsteps on the stairs, the door opening. His look._

_Fists, shouts, cries and screams - the sound of the door slamming. She turns to face her husband, his eyes are flashing with rage, his face contorted in anger and betrayal._

"_My brother?" He demands. "How could you?"_

_She pulls the sheets around her naked body and stands defiantly, "It meant nothing."_

_He explodes in a fit of rage and grabs the nearest thing – a bottle – and throws it across the room; it smashes violently against the wall. She barely flinches._

"_Oh come on John, we both know what we're like." She's bored, this is tedious._

"_Not with my brother you filthy slut!" He rages. He kicks out at the nearby chair sending it smashing into the wall. Again she barely flinches._

"_Oh John, stop being so damned dramatic! When do I ever complain about all those whores you sleep with?" Her tone is bland, yet her eyes flash with malice._

_He grabs her and drags her violently towards the stairs. "Get out, get out of my house!"_

"_No! John! Get off! Stop…you…can't!" She fights back, the sheet falling away. They tussle as he pushes her towards the wooden staircase._

"_I want you out! This marriage is over!" he explodes; she still fights back, trying to get away from his grip._

_1….2….3….4, her balance is lost and the floor disappears and she is falling. Thud, thud, thud, thud, the sound is deafening and sickening even to her own ears. She hears him call out, hears her own cry, and then silence as she hits the floor._

_Dazed and confused, she begins to move and then the pain hits. Her abdomen screams out and she bends double in a groan. The waves of pain are followed by the blood and then the blood is followed by the dead baby, small and barely formed, a child that didn't even get a chance at life._

The image of that horrific scene fades as Jane arrives at the bottom of the staircase and kneels at Lady Grantham's side. Other staff begin to arrive at the sound of the commotion and Jane calls out for them to send for the doctor.

Dr Clarkson arrives quickly and is followed by the fast arrival of Lord Grantham, his wife and youngest daughter. It seems that Lady Grantham has not suffered any serious injuries, she is merely shocked and badly bruised but it could have been worse, much worse.

"Oh Granny! Whatever were you doing?" Her granddaughter asks her voice full of concern.

"I'm not sure my dear, one minute I was walking and then…" Her grandmother replies.

"Well you are coming home with us! I'd feel better knowing you are safe at Downton." Lord Grantham announces firmly.

"Oh do stop fussing Robert! I'm quite alright." Violet replies though with little conviction.

"Robert is right; you shall come home and stay with us until you are fully recovered." Lady Grantham adds her opinion to the matter.

"Well…maybe it is for the best." Violet acknowledges, lying back against the cushions of the sofa.

Lord Grantham turns to Jane, "You had better go and pack some things for her ladyship and yourself. You can stay at Downton; there is plenty of room in the servant's quarters."

Jane can barely hide her delight; she drops her head into a demure bow and says softly, "Of course m'lord, thank you."

This is the perfect end to the whole event. She will be living at Downton, under the same roof as _Anna_ and her good for nothing husband.Now the games can really begin.


End file.
